I’m back in the saddle again after having toppled off the writing horse some weeks back. Well, in truth, it was more like being tossed from a bucking bronco. I hate when that happens, but often (for me anyway) it’s that life intervenes and my poor little brain can only handle so much. Life gets busy and I worry a lot, work hard at other things, feel generally out of sorts, and always, always, wonder what is wrong.
Now that the worst of my pre-move packing and sorting is done, and the development where I live has completed the grading of common areas, installing desert landscape, the yearly scalping of the grasses, oh, and the roads—those have been freshly slurried—a lull has settled over the community. That is as disruptive for me as all of the noise and activity. On Friday, I wondered what on earth I should do with myself. It seemed I couldn’t settle to anything.
By Saturday the WIP (work in progress…you know, that stalled manuscript) was dragged out. I read through the 20K already written, and toyed with doing NaNoWriMo (write a novel in rough draft during the month of November) but the ruling is you’re supposed to start with something new. I decided to do my version, which is to write something every single day no matter what is going on in my life, but I won’t register for the NaNo event. If I stick to my goal I’ll be a winner in my own eyes.
Yesterday, Sunday morning, November 1, I awoke early and headed out to make coffee. Within thirty minutes I’d opened my file and started writing. After two hours, barely realizing the passing of time, I knew I was back. I’d become invigorated, smiling, feeling a strong sense of self-satisfaction. Whatever had pulled me away from the writing was gone, my unhappiness was lifted, and by that simple act of creating story my energy level had risen.
My sleeves are rolled up, and I’m so darn happy.
Now where is that horse?
I have more words to write.